“Friendly girls and good food. Great party, Jack!” Pat sighed in a happy way.
Javier had just backed his truck out of the driveway and slowly started driving down the street. He smiled and said, “Natalie and her friends made my night!”
“Carrie put her number into my phone. That made my night,” Pat replied and then pointed. “Turn up there. My grandma’s house is on Mistletoe.” He settled back into the passenger seat. “I’m going to enjoy riding in this truck to school every day, Javier.”
“Every day? What about going home?”
Pat turned away to stare out the truck window. “I’ve been staying with my grandma for two years. It helps keep peace in the family.” He chuckled to himself. “And it makes Feliz mad to have to drive me around, so that’s a bonus.”
“I know where your family lives, Pat. That’s a lot of gas for Feliz to run you back and forth, isn’t it?”
“My dad said if I make straight As this first quarter, he’ll get me a car.” Pat shrugged, still looking out the window. “I don’t think it’s worth the hassle.”
“You should go for it, Pat.” Javier flipped on the truck blinker. “I can help you with schoolwork! Why don’t we work together on our history paper tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow is a holiday, Jack. Who does homework on holidays?”
“People like me who need As, that’s who,” Javier answered. “Who would I be if I wasn’t the smartest guy in the class?”
“I don’t know,” Pat replied and finally turned to look at Javier. “Do you want to be the guy who sleeps in class? I can teach you all the tricks.”
“What, and take away your fabulous reputation?” Javier replied. He was starting to really enjoy hanging around with Pat, whose honest, funny answers made Javier feel it was good to be the same way.
Javier began scanning the neighborhood, admiring some of the restored brick homes. “Which one is your grandmother’s?”
“Three houses down, where the porch light is on. Welita knows I’m coming.”
When Javier parked at the curb, he couldn’t believe he had the right place. Having seen the Berlanga’s expensive home, it seemed weird that Pat’s grandmother lived in a tiny house with narrow windows and a cracked sidewalk.
“This is where my mom grew up.” Pat leaned forward to look through Javier’s window. “The house needs a lot of work, but my dad says it would be a waste of money. He keeps telling my grandmother to move out of the neighborhood.”
“Why doesn’t she just live with your family in your big house?”
“Welita wouldn’t like living there. Hey, I don’t like living there.” Pat sighed. He unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the truck door. “Thanks for the ride, Javier.”
“Hey, no problem.” Javier rapped his fingers across the steering wheel. “Call me tomorrow. If you’re staying here, I’ll pick you up for school on Tuesday.”
Pat nodded. “Thanks. I had fun tonight, Javier. I’d love to have a family like yours.” He looked very serious as he said, “Do you know how really lucky you are?”
“Yeah, I’m starting to figure it out.”
It took the prep camp kids from schools around the city to make him realize that he was very lucky to have the family he did. His parents and siblings were older than most, but they were always loving. Sometimes he felt like they would always see him as “little Javito,” but it was just annoying and nothing bad.
Javier sighed as he watched Pat getting out of the truck. Here was a good guy whose family life seemed complicated and unfair. Pat slept in this old house to watch over his grandmother, but his father, who owned two of the biggest dealerships in San Antonio, wouldn’t buy him a car?
Quickly, he pressed the button to lower the truck window and called out, “Hey, if you want some help to make straight As, just let me know, Pat.”
“And if you want some pointers about sleeping in class, just let me know!” his friend called back before he walked up the sidewalk toward the lonely porch.
Javier waited until Pat went inside the house and then drove away.
“Forget her, Jack,” Andy told Javier as they worked together on algebra problems Monday night at the Cardona’s kitchen table. He tapped his pencil against Javier’s notebook. “Feliz might look hot, but she’s a real ice queen.”
“Pat tried to warn me.” He raised one eyebrow as he looked at Andy. “Next time I’ll listen to him instead of you guys.”
Andy shrugged. “At least Natalie and her friends were nicer than Feliz.”
“Feliz was so rude at the party. I can’t figure her out,” Javier replied. He grabbed Andy’s calculator and compared the answer with the one written on his paper. “And obviously, I can’t figure out this problem either.”
Ignacio walked back into the room. “It doesn’t look good for the Cowboys tonight.” He sat down at the table where he had abandoned his book ten minutes ago.
“It doesn’t look good for us on tomorrow’s test,” Javier said. “Forget the game and help us figure out the last two problems.”
“What? You don’t have the answer yet? Last year you were a wiz at math,” Ignacio replied, wrinkling his eyebrows. “You know we depend on you to explain stuff. You’re the smart guy, remember?”
Now it was Javier’s turn to frown. He was sick of those expectations, especially from guys who were supposed to be his friends. “I’m not a computer, Ignacio. I don’t have all the answers. Stop putting that kind of pressure on me.”
“You’re crazy.” Ignacio scratched his head and stared down at his textbook. “You’re the only one sitting at this table with a 4.0. What are you complaining about?”
“You’re just grouchy ‘cause you struck out with Feliz.” Andy’s drumming pencil bounced from Javier’s book to his calculator. “When you ace tomorrow’s test, you’ll feel ten times better.”
How could his old friends be so blind? Javier sighed. “Never mind. Let’s just put our heads together and try to finish the last two problems, okay?”
Javier thought driving to school with a friend would be interesting and fun. Even though the skies were still charcoal-gray when he drove on Tuesday morning, this early ride with Pat would give them a chance to talk about the media class and predict what new jobs Mr. Seneca might give them. He assumed since rush-hour traffic hadn’t started yet, driving on the interstate into downtown would be easier. What he didn’t expect was the guy in the seat next to him falling asleep before Javier drove around the corner and how many big eighteen-wheelers got an early start on their deliveries. His shoulders felt like they had been twisted in a vice by the time he parked his truck. The student lot by the gym was dimly lit, but he recognized Ram’s jeep and Omar’s old Ford.
“Hey, Pat, wake up!” he said probably louder than he needed to.
“Huh?” Pat’s dark eyes fluttered open, and he straightened up in the seat. “Are we here already?” He yawned and unbuckled his seatbelt. “You’ve got a comfortable truck, Javier. I didn’t even feel you start and stop. Feliz drives so jerky compared to you.”
If Pat had meant to compliment Javier, it did nothing to stop the irritation he felt. “Let’s go, Pat. I don’t need Mr. Seneca yelling at me this early in the morning.”
Javier stepped out of the truck. He lifted his heavy backpack from behind the driver’s seat and hung it over one shoulder. He looked around, unaccustomed to arriving at school when the lots and fields were empty, security lights beamed around the buildings, and the classrooms looked dark and creepy.
Pat trudged along beside him, quiet except for yawning. Javier said nothing.
“Look around and see what needs to be done,” Mr. Seneca said when Pat and Javier walked into the media classroom. He leaned heavily into his crutches as he spoke with Dylan and Ram in the desk area. They wore identical grim faces, as if the football team had just lost the Homecoming game to a rival school.
Everyone gets nervous in different ways, Javier thought, relieved his feet were itch-free this morning. He dropped his backpack on the first desk in the middle row and saw Pat already walking back to the cabinets to find the microphones.
Both Landry and Steve stood behind the juniors who sat at the computers. They looked busy as they answered questions from the upperclassmen. Kenny stood by Omar discussing the camera. Javier glanced around, but it looked like everyone was working, so he decided to go over to Mr. Seneca’s desk and take a look at the announcements. There was still time to change words or rewrite them completely before Dylan and Ram went on TV.
When he got to the plastic tray on the desktop where Mr. Seneca kept the new announcements, though, it was empty. He turned around and realized the papers were already in the hands of the senior football players who had rearranged the chairs and looked ready to practice. Had they read them at all? Did they know how much rewriting Javier had done to make the announcements interesting?
“Javier, you need to stand by the air-conditioner switch. Turn it off and turn it back on. That’s your only job now,” Kenny García said to him in a superior tone. Omar and the three juniors laughed. Even Landry and Steve grinned.
His earlier irritation at speeding truckers and a sleeping friend resurfaced as an angry stare at the guys around the computers. He knew the time would come when he’d have to do something menial for the broadcast, but it wasn’t easy to accept it after two weeks in front of the camera. He had actually enjoyed all the stressful excitement as a broadcaster on Guardian TV, but now what?
Javier turned his back on the juniors and walked toward the desk area. Maybe he’d give a little advice to the new broadcast team. Two weeks ago, he would have been grateful for someone with experience to tell him what to expect. Dylan and Ram were taking their seats behind the desk. Mr. Seneca had moved toward Omar and Kenny at the camera.
Pat, who was setting up the microphones, told them, “Don’t forget, no matter what happens, don’t stop talking.”
“We know what we’re doing, Berlanga!” Dylan said with a pit-bull snarl.
“I hope so, Dylan.” Javier stepped from behind Pat and spoke from experience. “You two are up front and personal with the whole school. Everybody has a do a good job or all of us look bad.”
“We’re seniors. We don’t make mistakes like dumb sophomores,” Ram said, shuffling through the papers he held. “We can handle this ourselves. Go away!”
“Sure, fine,” Javier replied, still annoyed by everyone around him. “I’m going to enjoy watching instead of sweating. Come on, Pat. We’re in charge of turning off the air-conditioner. It used to be a junior job, but I think we can handle it.”
“Yup, I think so, yuck, yuck, yuck,” Pat replied in a comical way that should have lowered the stress factor for Javier but didn’t.
They walked toward the door where the thermostat was located. Javier hit his fist against the wall. Then he crossed his arms and leaned against it.
“You okay, Javier? You seem a little tense,” Pat said in a low voice.
“It’s nothing.”
“No, it’s something. I can tell. You’ve been like this since we got out of the truck. What’s going on?”
Pat’s persistence only made Javier feel angry again. He glared at Pat and said, “Okay, do you really want to know?”
“Yeah, I do.” His dark face appeared curious and serious at the same time.
“Well, I’m mad at the guy who expects a ride and then falls asleep in my truck like an old dog. Great conversation we had coming to school this morning, Pat!”
“Oh!” Pat took a step back. “Right … uh, sorry!” He shrugged and tossed up his hands. “Hey, you know I can fall sleep anywhere.”
“The school bus stops in my neighborhood, Pat. If you stay with your grandmother, you can catch a ride and sleep on the bus like all the other guys do.” Javier’s face burned, but it still felt good to tell the truth. “I gave you a ride because I wanted a friend along. I don’t need to watch you sleep.”
Pat’s black eyes widened as he said, “I really am sorry, Javier. I was looking forward to riding with you, too, but … ” He stopped and licked his lips; pausing, as if to say something embarrassing. “… Welita always wants me to stay awake with her and watch TV all night.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “It’s why I fall asleep in class.”
“Okay, everybody QUIET! We need to run through this RIGHT NOW!” Mr. Seneca’s voice sounded like a death threat.
Javier spun around and turned off the thermostat. It kept him from staring at Pat with a pitiful apology on his lips. No guy wanted that. Pat had been a real friend at the party after Feliz had ditched them. Pat didn’t embarrass Javier then, and now it was Javier’s turn to return the favor. Each had their say, and that was good enough.
As the tape of the broadcast ended, Ram dropped his head into his hand. “That was so bad. We looked like there were poles shoved up our butts.”
“We sounded like fifth graders.” Dylan turned in his chair and glared at Javier and Pat, who sat behind each other in the middle row. “You two made it look way too easy.”
“It’s not easy. It’ll never be easy.” Javier still felt annoyed by the seniors’ earlier attitude. He felt ready to tell off the great Dylan Romo. “You know, it doesn’t take a genius to do a job well—just someone willing to work hard.”
Dylan gave him another killer glare before he turned back to Mr. Seneca. The teacher stood by the television, a frown as deep as a cavern marking his features.
“You need to keep Javier and Pat on the air until football season is over,” Dylan told him. “It’s not fair they get all the extra time to practice and we don’t.”
“If you think it’s all about an hour of practice, you’re sadly mistaken.” Carefully, Mr. Seneca took a few steps forward. “Javier and Pat read ahead of time and then rewrite what needs to be said. You and Ram grabbed the announcements off my desk and read them cold. Did you even listen during practice? I knew it was going to be bad.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Ram said. “Why didn’t you make Javier rewrite the announcements first? We looked so stupid this morning!”
“If I had tried to warn you, would you have listened to me?” Mr. Seneca replied, slightly lowering his chin to stare directly at Dylan.
“It’s not fair. I don’t know nothing about writing.” Dylan’s voice got a notch louder. “Why can’t Javier just keep writing all the announcements? Why do the rest of us have to look bad because we aren’t all super-brainiacs like Javier Ávila?”
“So you’re going to insult Javier and then expect him to help you?” Pat quickly jumped into the heated discussion. “We wanted to help you this morning, but all you did was blow us off and brag about yourselves. Face it … you two messed up! You owe my friend here an apology and a polite request to help you with the writing.”
No one said a word. Who knew sleepy ol’ Pat had grown a backbone?
“Okay.” Ram slowly unclenched his teeth and looked at Javier. “We can use the help, Javier. Can you do some of the writing so we sound better tomorrow morning?”
Javier liked the feeling of power he held in his hands. It was hard not to smile as he said, “I don’t mind becoming a scriptwriter for other broadcast teams, but you need Pat’s help too. I might know a better way to structure a sentence, but Pat can coach you on ways to work together.” He hoped the guys in the class finally understood that even non-athletes could appreciate teamwork.
Mr. Seneca cleared his throat loudly. “Javier and Pat shouldn’t have to bail you out every day, gentlemen. All of you need to get better at rewriting and speaking on camera. No more excuses.” He started a lecture on media ethics, and just before the bell rang, he announced, “Attention, sophomores! Today after school, we’ll meet so I can demonstrate how to insert video clips into the broadcast. Plan to stick around until five.”
“We get here early, and he still wants us to come after school?” Javier complained to Pat after they walked outside after first period. “He’s getting us coming and going, isn’t he?”
“Yeah,” Pat replied. He rushed his hand through his short dark hair. “And there’s still a lot of equipment in those cabinets we haven’t used yet. We could be here every day for the rest of the semester. Don’t you just love the surprises in an elective class?”
Javier shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never been in an elective class.”
“What?” Pat’s eyes widened under his raised eyebrows. “Are you kidding me?”
“I’m dead serious. In middle school, I took classes to get me ahead for high school. Now I am doing pre-AP classes and taking junior-level courses as a sophomore. I never made time in my schedule to take an elective.”
“Then how did you get into this one?”
“It was Brother Calvin,” Javier said, shifting his backpack on his shoulder. “I know old Calavera put this class on my schedule because I wasn’t involved in any school clubs. All last year he’d tell me, ‘There’s more to life than studying twenty-four-seven.”
“Amen to that!” Pat said with a laugh. “Why not have some fun? You only get one life, right?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Javier replied, feeling the itch of uncertainty slide inside his shoes.
But even if he had wanted to change his thinking, there was no time for it. He walked into a pop quiz on Emerson in English, had to lead the discussion on the Assyrians in history class, and felt as if the rest of his teachers had spent their Labor Day weekend figuring out ways to add more work to their students’ lives. As he pushed his way through the crowded hallway after last period, Javier wished he could go home and get started on papers, problems, and projects. Only Mr. Seneca had other plans for him.
Javier sighed as he opened his locker and started to load up his backpack with books he would need later. He had actually finished all his chemistry definitions in class and felt tempted to take the book home to read ahead, but he didn’t have the extra time anymore. He left two other books behind, closed his locker, and started walking down the hall. He had just reached the area leading out of the building when he saw Brother Calvin coming inside the door.
He gave Javier a grin that only made the old man’s face look even more like a cardboard Halloween skeleton. “Hello, Javier. I missed seeing you on Guardian TV this morning. You have developed a great on-air persona.”
“It’s time for Dylan and Ram to take their turn on the broadcast. I’m working behind the scenes now.” Javier wasn’t expecting his voice to sound cold, but it suited the mood he felt. He was tired and suddenly resentful of the man’s interference.
“Learning a lot, are you?” Brother Calvin clapped Javier on the shoulder like they were long-lost compadres. “You know, it was like working a jigsaw puzzle to fit that elective into your schedule.”
Javier took a step back, shrugging off the man’s bony hand. “I don’t think it was fair to put me in that elective without telling me first.”
“If I had asked you about it, what would you have told me?”
“I would have said that I’d think about it.”
“Think about it? Maybe? Last year, Javier, every answer you gave me was indecisive.”
“I’m decisive,” Javier answered. “I made a decision to work hard on my academics when I came to this school.”
“I respect the effort, Javier, but I’d like to know if you’re satisfied with that decision. Are you happy with it?”
“Why is ‘happy’ relevant? I can’t believe the school counselor could be complaining about my high grades.” His eyes burned with anger. “Shouldn’t you be more worried about kids who are failing?”
Brother Calvin crossed his arms like adults do when they think they’re right. “You know, Javier, there are other ways to fail besides getting an F on a report card. What about failing to try something new? What about failing to discover something to feel passionate about?”
“Passionate? I’m passionate about my schoolwork. I kept a 4.0 all last year.”
“There’s a difference between passion and obsession. I think you are so caught up in school academics that you forget you should be enjoying your life.”
“Why did you assume this elective was going to let me enjoy life? Media class takes up all the extra time I used to have for reading and studying.”
“So you don’t like the elective?”
Javier stopped in mid-reply. He wanted to tell the old man, “No, I hate it,” but the truth was, that class had taught him a lot. But he didn’t want Brother Calvin to know it. He said, “Mr. Seneca’s giving me a lot of work to do after school because of this new elective you put on my schedule. I’m late now. Excuse me, Sir.”
He stepped around the school counselor and headed out the door. And while he still fumed as he walked inside the media classroom, it didn’t take long before Javier forgot about grade points and school counselors. As soon as he watched Mr. Seneca load up the first broadcast and explain how the switcher could make announcements even better with video clips, Javier felt excited and inspired. “Mr. Seneca, can you teach us more about the cameras in your cabinet? What good is the switcher if what we film looks like an amateur did it?”
Kenny grunted and said, “Speak for yourself, Javier. I know what I’m doing behind the camera.”
“That’s good, Kenny. Then you can teach the other guys,” Mr. Seneca said. He leaned over and unhooked his keychain from his belt. “Javier, open up the cabinets and get out the cameras we have in there. Pat, help him carry them over to the desk area so Kenny can take over for a while. I’ll be back in about ten minutes.”
As Javier and Pat walked away, Kenny said, “Any idiot can aim and focus. Just be sure to press the ON button before you screw up and got nothing to show for it.”
“I’d rather get a tooth filled than learn from Kenny García,” Javier said quietly to Pat as he opened the cabinets. “I’ll borrow the manual from Mr. Seneca, okay?”
“You are a nerd, Jack,” Pat replied. He laughed before he said, “I’d rather get a tooth filled than read a manual.”
After listening to Kenny’s I-know-it-all-and-the-rest-of-you-are-idiots lecture, Javier took home one manual and convinced Pat to read a different one. By the next day they started to film inside the band hall. Javier shot close-ups of the drumline. Then Pat filmed the brass section and did close-ups of Ignacio playing his trumpet and Mr. Henley conducting the band. Finally, they did a wide shot with most of the guys waving or pumping their instruments over their heads, hamming it up for the camera.
Inside the media classroom, the real work began as they uploaded the raw footage and worked with the editing software for the rest of the week.
“I’m glad I told Kenny to film tomorrow’s game,” Mr. Seneca told Javier and Pat on Friday afternoon. They had been sitting at the computers the past two hours. “You two have a better sense for editing.”
“That’s ‘cause Javier is so crazy about details,” Pat told his teacher. “He’s also a perfectionist. Javier does everything over and over and over again.”
Mr. Seneca chuckled, but he also tapped Javier’s shoulder and said, “Attention to detail has its place. Look at the big picture too. Details are only as good as the whole message they create.”
“Yes, Sir,” he answered, a bit thoughtful about Mr. Seneca’s advice. He looked at the image on the computer screen in front of him. It was Andy leaning over his drum, his blurred hands beating a rapid cadence. His face beamed with a toothy smile of undiluted joy. But when Javier looked again, he saw the rest of the drummers angled behind Andy and the horn players in front of him, also engrossed in their own music making. In the bigger image, he discovered creative expression and collaboration. It was the difference between random noise and a thing called music.
He began to wonder what would happen if he used music behind the film clips they showed during the broadcast? What if we filmed more student activities besides the band and the football team? What about taking the camera to the next pep rally? What about interviews?
“Let’s call it a day, gentlemen.” Mr. Seneca’s order interrupted Javier’s musings. “It’s almost five-thirty, and I’m beat.”
Javier reluctantly shut down the computer. He liked to experiment with the sequence of images and think about ways to present them. He hadn’t enjoyed anything like this since his grade-school Science Fair days. That was the last time he recalled using new skills and his own creativity to solve a problem.
It wasn’t until they had walked away from the building that Javier said, “I hope Kenny gets good video from tomorrow’s game. Maybe we can set it to music.”
Pat nodded but didn’t comment. They had walked closer to the parking lot before he said, “Did I tell you Carrie’s coming to the game tomorrow night?”
“Pat!” Javier stopped walking and stared at his friend. “Have you been talking to Carrie since my party?”
“Yeah, but that’s not all.” Pat smiled like the Big Bad Wolf about to eat up Little Red Riding Hood. “Carrie’s bringing Amanda too. You ready to try again, Javier?”
“Try again?” Javier replied, though he knew perfectly well what Pat meant.
“Don’t play dumb!” Pat told him. “Maybe Amanda’s not the girl of your dreams, but you can help a friend out and be nice to her, right? I need you to be my wing man.”
When Javier just stared back, Pat’s eyebrows furrowed over his dark eyes. “You’re not still hung up on my sister, right? She left you hanging, Jack! I wouldn’t wish my sister on anybody—except maybe Kenny García.”
Javier responded, “A match made in hell, right?”
“See? You can be funny too, Javier.” Pat shook his head. “You were so freaking serious last year. You reminded me of a robot, and I kept wondering who was pushing the buttons on the remote control?”
Javier stepped back. The robot comparison stung, but it was truthful too. “I guess I used to be a robot, Pat, but not anymore.”
“That’s good news.” Pat laughed. “Humans make much better friends.”